Busy, Busy.

Wit and Wisdomby Beth BroderickIt’s that time of year when the world falls in love. Every song you hear seems to say, “Merry Christmas” or something along those lines, depending on from which vantage point you view the situation and what you want to celebrate this season. I just want folks to have a happy something or other.Happy Holidays, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa …. whatever floats your festivities boat.It all means more or less the same thing, though of course many of the pesky details diverge, which has, throughout history, caused wars and such. So, for now, let’s set those aside.What it ALL means in the main, what we can all agree on, is that we are ALL busy. Very, very. Busy, busy.What remains of 2025 is being compressed into a December full of events and obligations, full of shopping and giving and taking and partaking. The notes are everywhere …There are six performances of a new ballet by The Realm Company, all of which I am promoting, not less than four of which will require my attendance as the president of the board. It is a Christmas show, of course, but it is based on the legend of “Krampus,” the marauding bad boy of Norwegian legend. Not your grandma’s Christmas ballet, it is sexy and dark and thrilling and deserves to be seen. Work to be done there to spread the word. It is part of the job description and, make no mistake, I am a volunteer, but it is a job.I got a note from a banker this morning saying that he never received the necessary forms from me, which I sent no less than five minutes after they were requested, but which somehow landed in the ether of the internet and never made it to his desk. I almost cried. Thought that was one tiny annoying detail off of my plate, but no, delivery was “incomplete”.Argghhhhhhhhhh!Of course, I took a good sharp inhale and phoned him, and we sorted it all out in minutes. But my bedevilment is a sign that I may be a tad overwhelmed. A teensy bit stressed out. I love this time of year, and I also hate it just a little.Dinner with friends a few nights ago at the legendary Musso and Frank involved the requisite sighs of disbelief that the holidays are so suddenly upon us. Happens every time, of course. We are once again amazed that the year has gone by in a flash. We are, as always, worried that our packed schedules may be too packed. We don’t want to miss anything, but also, at some point, would love to sit down and take stock. Year-end and all. What worked? What didn’t? What are my priorities? Should they be different going forward? I try to attend to these thoughts, but am inevitably interruptedDASHING THROUGH WITH JOY.It will be my 36th Christmas party. The 36th time we have gathered together to create beautiful gifts for the women in the emergency shelter at the Good Shepherd Home. It is a longstanding event, attended by an ever-growing and changing group of folks. Don cannot make it this year but will send soaps. Ditto Bruce and Cookie, who have donated by Venmo, but Sabrina and Dani will come for the first time, as well as Carmen and a few others. Anthony and Miguel are holding it at their place again, which is truly a blessing. They have the perfect space for it and are consummate hosts. Laura and Sarah always have financial skin in the game but will be there in person this year as the baby is big enough to stay with a sitter. Yay! This is as much their tradition as my own. Elizabeth broke her toe at Thanksgiving, so cannot do the shopping, a full-day affair that involves crawling along the aisles in TJ MAXX and Ross trying to find 32 of everything we need. 32 mascaras, 32 lotions, 32 hair bands, 32 face wipes, etc., but she will be there on the night and is a whiz-bang organizer. Whew. It will be great. It is always great to be with good people doing good things.That’s the big one. Once those gifts are delivered to the nuns, it’s a lovely sleigh ride down the calendar toward the big finish. There are other events, of course, and I am going to love each and every one of them. I am particularly looking forward to seeing my nieces when the oldest visits from Colorado with her lovely husband and child in tow.Somewhere around the 22nd, I will be able to goof off a bit, go see Dean and Jim, hang out with the dogs and chill … until the 23rd that is. Then it will be time to finalize the menu, finish shopping, and start prepping for dinner on the 25th. I keep that one small these days. Just the sisters and a few others, and of course, the nephew. It’s his first. He is a year old this month, and of all the things moving at warp speed, that is the one that takes my breath away. It goes so fast. The other night I watched him pick up a pasta noodle and gnaw on it, and I could not believe that this is the same person as that little fellow I met 12 months ago. So tiny then and so sleepy … I would stroke his cheek to keep him alert enough to drink his bottle. Now he is 30 pounds and tearing through the house, able to stand long enough to wipe all of his toys off of the shelf. He is ever on the move and eager, getting into mischief with his best friend Bruno, a 110-pound German Shepherd.He just wore a suit and tie to a wedding! And shoes! Shoes! DANG!So fast. Too fast, and also perfect. December brings us home to the fact that another year has given way to memory. When I was younger, there was real consternation about how that time had been spent, serious determinations to be made about how to do so in the future. Now I am just grateful to have lived it.New Year’s is a marker too distinct to ignore. There are others, of course, and at my age, they come tumbling toward me at a relentless pace. The children are ever-growing, and many whom I once held as infants are now full adults. There are new emails from the government which detail the future benefits available to me from Social Security and Medicare. There are new lines on my face that run in a crisscross pattern from my chin toward my earlobe. I have some friends with new hearing aids, some friends who definitely need them; and I am getting some not-so-subtle hints that it is only a matter of time before I will, too.Someone on the street asked me how old my dog is this morning.“Three,” I replied.Then I realized that I have been saying that for two years. When I first got him, I would answer “almost three,” which was the vet’s best guess. Over time that became just plain three, but it occurred to me today that he is actually four and a half, almost five, which is half the life expectancy for a dog of his dimensions. I can barely grasp that, but there it is. Maybe I will just stick with saying three and avoid thinking about it entirely.Whatever you celebrate, and however you do so, I wish you a joyous, messy December full of friends and feasts and frolic. January will be here soon enough and bring the chill and thrill of a new winter. We will once again get serious about a future, which is ours to behold and to mold. A lot of things have changed, as our country has taken a turn. Many uncertainties abound, but the holidays are here, by God, and we can count on that. The trees will go up, the gifts will be wrapped, and the candles lit. The pies will be baked and the toasts made. There is real comfort and true joy in that.Time is passing and the ball will drop once more, but before it does, it’s time to get busy. Very, very. Busy, busy. After all that is said and will be done, these are, and ever will be, the good old days.On we go …We extend our heartfelt gratitude to our valued subscribers whose support makes the publication of Wit and Wisdom possible. Thank you! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit bethbroderick.substack.com/subscribe

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